


Subdued

by txilar



Category: Naruto
Genre: Corporal Punishment, Dubious Consent, M/M, Punishment, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-30
Updated: 2012-09-30
Packaged: 2017-11-15 11:10:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/526645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/txilar/pseuds/txilar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kakashi doesn't take kindly to Iruka telling him how to do his job.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Subdued

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a prompt at [KakaIru Kink Meme](http://kakairu-kink.livejournal.com/364.html?thread=159596#t159596). This story contains dubious consent, punishment, spanking, mild BDSM themes, and it references corporal punishment of a child (witnessed as a past event).

_“The supreme art of war is to subdue the enemy without fighting.”_  
-Sun Tzu

  
Iruka was seething. Kakashi’s dismissal was humiliating enough, but what set him off the most was his casual disregard for Naruto--for all three of the kids. Iruka knew, oh how he knew, that they were not children anymore.

But they weren’t ninja either. They weren’t ready. Kakashi would have to face that.

_And he'll face me too._

Iruka knocked again and waited, tapping his foot impatiently. He was just about to raise his hand again when the door opened.

“Well. If it isn’t the little mother hen. Come to castigate me for sending your precious kit off to battle?” The words were harsh, but Kakashi’s tone was bored. Iruka refused to take the bait. He ducked his head politely.

“Kakashi-san, as a teacher, I am fully aware of what the children are trained for. My concern is that you are not fully aware of how ill-prepared they are for the exams. Your expectations are... different. I only ask that you give them more time--”

“You’re a busybody, sensei.” His tone wasn’t bored anymore and the way he said ‘sensei’ was downright disrespectful.

Kakashi leaned against his doorframe, relaxing as he looked at Iruka, and folded his arms. He spoke coldly and precisely. “You take raw talent and heat it. I turn it into _steel_. What you make soft, I turn into weapons. Why am I explaining this? Do you want me to turn you into steel as well?” Kakashi winked, but there was nothing playful about his body language. Iruka flushed at the downright lascivious tone.

“I want--”

Kakashi reached out a finger to trail across Iruka’s nose. “I could teach you a lot, sensei.”

Iruka opened his mouth to respond, but his brain seemed to short out on him. He couldn’t see half of Kakashi’s face, but the way his eye crinkled suggested a pretty self-satisfied smile. His fingers drifted down Iruka’s face and neck until his hand was on Iruka’s shoulder. Kakashi’s fingers clutched tight and he pulled Iruka close.

“Like how to take orders,” he whispered.

He yanked and Iruka was inside the apartment, his back against the shut door before he even realised what had happened. Kakashi’s body was close and hot, his breath a warmth at Iruka’s neck.

“Can you follow an order, chunin?”

Iruka was shaking in a vicious and confusing mix of rage and fear. Technically, Kakashi was his superior, but this, this wasn’t.... this was... he should... what...

Kakashi’s quiet voice and feline stealth were frightening. No, that wasn’t right. Iruka was not afraid. He was angry. But his body was reacting to fear and he wanted to run.

“What are y--”

Kakashi’s hand slapped flat across Iruka’s mouth. “You talk too much. There is great value in listening to your superiors. Come with me.”

Without removing his hand, Kakashi yanked Iruka forward and wrapped his arm around Iruka so that he was wedged against Kakashi’s chest. They walked down a dark and narrow hallway.

Iruka shook his head and tried to dig in his heels, but Kakashi just kept pushing. Iruka's sandals squeaked all the way down the hall. They ended up at a doorway into another room. A bedroom.

Kakashi’s arm was tight around Iruka and the hand over his mouth was warm and humid, thumb shoved against Iruka’s nose as he panted noisily.

“I’ve never been one for physical punishment. My father wasn't a believer. But I remember a mission to Sand when I was ten. I was there to--well never mind that part. I was in school with regular children and I saw things I’d never seen before. Playtime was certainly fascinating. But one afternoon, a boy threw a tantrum. It was amazing. His face turned bright red and he threw himself on the ground screaming. He was completely out of control, like a seizure, only on purpose.”

Iruka could feel his heart pounding, could hear the dull thud in his ears and across his skin. Kakashi must have felt it too, as they stood there in the doorway. The apartment was still and quiet around them.

“The teacher came over, yanked him up, pulled his pants down and smacked his ass until it was as red as his face. He didn’t quit until the little wretch stopped flailing.”

Iruka was breathing deeply now. His fear had left him, well, his first fear. The fear that Kakashi was going to kick his ass in some testosterone-laced version of teaching him a lesson. Now he feared... well, he wasn't exactly sure what he feared.

He feared Kakashi.

Kakashi pulled and Iruka arched back to keep from choking. Kakashi whispered against his ear.

“On a later visit, I learned the boy was a model student. But he liked his girlfriends to spank him.”

Iruka shook his head.

“Maybe this will teach you a lesson too.”

Kakashi pushed Iruka and walked them into the room. At the bed he turned Iruka around to face him. His hand was still plastered over Iruka’s mouth. He tilted his head and searched Iruka’s eyes. And then he left go.

“Kakashi, I don't--”

“Do you think you can keep quiet? That boy was in front of all his classmates. He was a child, so it didn’t matter that he cried and slobbered. But between us, I think this should be a quiet thing, don’t you?”

Iruka wet his lips and stared. _This isn't a dream._

He kind of wished he hadn’t come here. And then Kakashi hooked a finger under his mask and pulled it down. Iruka didn't often see Kakashi without his mask. Something about that innocent face felt dangerous. It was no wonder he wore a mask.

Iruka wondered yet again what he was doing here. Why wasn’t he running? Because Kakashi was faster than he was. Why wasn’t he begging? Because Kakashi’s expression was impenetrable.

Kakashi sat down on the bed and crooked his finger at Iruka. Iruka shook his head and the hint of humour on Kakashi’s face disappeared. He drew a small length of rope from his pocket and ticked his finger at Iruka again.

This time Iruka moved forward.

“We’ll tie your hands, just to be safe. Hold them out for me.”

Shakily, Iruka held out his hands. He ran through his ‘why’ scenario again. Kakashi was faster, stronger, and frightening. And Iruka could not look away.

Kakashi smiled as he wrapped and knotted the rope. “And now the time has come. Shame we don’t have an audience to really drive the point home, but I think I’ll be satisfied regardless.”

Iruka stared at him, waiting.

“Pull down your pants, sensei, and bend over my lap.”

“But...” Kakashi’s brow arched as Iruka spoke. He drew in a ragged breath when he realised Kakashi wanted him to pull his pants down himself. He wanted Iruka to struggle. So he did. He felt his face growing redder and redder as he struggled to get his pants down. And when he finally got them down, it was the ultimate embarrassment to know that Kakashi saw that his cock was hard.

“Nice,” Kakashi breathed out.

Iruka stepped closer, well, he tried to step without tripping over his pants-hobbled feet, and leaned over. Iruka had excellent balance, but his practice was usually focused on escaping with his hands tied, not... not this.

He wavered. Kakashi wasn’t helping at all. How exactly did he want Iruka? Was he too far, not far enough? Hands in front or over his head? Iruka tried to ignore the question of what to do with his cock.

“A little more,” said Kakashi. “I want your ass right under palm. Let your arms hang down. Get your hands in place to balance. There. Perfect.”

Iruka flinched when Kakashi’s palm slid right over his ass and he scrambled to stay in place. As he wobbled, Kakashi's other hand slipped under Iruka’s shirt and grasped at his neck as he let his fingernails scrap against Iruka’s sensitive--and sensitised skin. Iruka's shoulders twitched and Kakashi smacked his ass lightly.

“Just a bit of warming up," he murmured. "I can’t wait to see if your ass gets as red as your face.” Kakashi smacked again and immediately rubbed his hand in circles before scratching long stripes into Iruka’s ass with his nails.

It turned into a rhythm: smack, rub, scratch, squeeze, smack.

Iruka stopped flinching. It was almost hypnotic. His breathing evened out and he realised the scent in his nose was Kakashi. It was kind of a warm dirt smell, with a hint of sweat and ozone, and something faintly mechanical.

This isn’t so bad, he thought.

And then Kakashi’s hand was gone. Kakashi’s body tensed a little and then there was a loud cracking noise followed by a sting. Iruka jerked, realising Kakashi had hit him. Had hit him hard.

“Ow! What are you--” Iruka bit off a cry as Kakashi smacked his ass again. Where before he’d been slapping lightly, the way you might smack someone awake from a nightmare, he was now drawing his arm back and dropping forcefully onto Iruka’s ass.

He barely finished the thought before another two strikes had landed.

And they hurt.

They were loud and once he got over the sound, he felt them. Right cheek, left cheek and then twice on each side.

Iruka struggled but he was hobbled on both sides. He tried to raise himself up but Kakashi’s hand on his neck kept him in place. He could barely keep his balance.

“I told you he didn’t stop until the brat stopped flailing.”

Iruka could hear the slight effort in Kakashi’s voice. And then Kakashi was raining smacks down on his ass so fast that Iruka couldn’t keep up with the sound, other than to his hear his own faint grunt follow embarrassingly. His ass was beginning to sting and god forbid he was hard again. He squirmed and felt his cock rubbing against Kakashi’s thigh.

Each smack was like an electric current right to his cock and he cringed from the realisation. Several more smacks landed and he sniffed hard, trying to twitch away from the burn. Each time Kakashi smacked, he jumped and it just made it bett--worse! Worse, he reminded himself.

Iruka gasped and it sounded downright pornographic.

Kakashi hummed in approval and somehow that made Iruka's ass arch into Kakashi's touch.

“Oh, your ass is hot Iruka. I mean, it’s on fire. So red.” Iruka felt something cool and wet draw across his ass. He twitched when he thought it might be Kakashi’s tongue. But no, he couldn’t have. Would he? Iruka shivered.

“Are you as turned on as I am, sensei? This is turning out to be a great lesson, no?”

And at that, Iruka realised that yes, Kakashi was indeed turned on. That hot hard length pressing into him was Kakashi’s cock.

Suddenly, Kakashi’s fingers were parting his ass and something slick pressed into him. He gasped and arched almost completely up but the fingers were gone.

“Wha...” He stopped to swallow. His mouth was incredibly dry. Before he could speak again, Kakashi was smacking his ass. Iruka felt tears leaking from the corners of his eyes. He squirmed, but Kakashi was leaning over him, holding him down. It felt like they’d been there for hours.

His ass was on fire. His cock was hard. His throat was dry. He couldn’t think. He couldn't move. His felt his body go limp. Felt the sting of three more smacks in a haze and lifted his ass for more. He was going to come any minute.

“Please...”

Then Kakashi was dragging him up and over and he was flat on the bed and Kakashi was over him. Kakashi’s fingers were holding him open and Kakashi’s cock was hard against his hole.

His ass was burning, but it was nothing compared to the sweet fire of Kakashi fucking him. He pressed in slow and Iruka tried to lift his hips, to help, but he was too worn. All he could do was remain still--still and hot. He felt a molten stirring as Kakashi fucked him, his hands clamped tight on Iruka’s shoulders.

Iruka bit his lip and Kakashi chanted, “Oh fuck, fuckfuck _fuck_.”

A cry burst out of Iruka as he orgasmed. He felt a thick wet heat beneath him as Kakashi ground him into the mattress and then he couldn’t keep quiet. With each thrust, Iruka grunted and cried out.

When Kakashi came it was an inundating heat and he cried out again, hips bucking as if he was coming again. Maybe he was. He didn’t know. He bucked and burned and wanted to scream.

Kakashi pulled out, eliciting yet another ragged cry. Iruka felt come striping his backside and nearly wept when Kakashi stabbed back inside. His body jerked out of control. He must have cried out again, because Kakashi’s hand covered his mouth and he stretched out flat over Iruka, fucking rapidly and then stopping.

Another thrust. And they were still, pulse slipping against pulse.

Panting.

Hot.

Sweaty.

Iruka tried to swallow and his throat burned. He couldn’t move. Mostly because Kakashi was a dead weight on him, but also because, well, he couldn’t move. If Kakashi wanted him gone, he’d have to untie Iruka, dress him, and take him home. Because, screw punishment, Iruka wasn’t going anywhere.

 

/ / /

 

“Would you like some tea?”

Iruka shook his head. He was in Kakashi’s bed--stripped of the cover. They’d had a shower and a bath. Kakashi had carefully washed him, held him as they soaked, and then he’d had patted Iruka down, applied quite a bit of cream to his flaming backside, and put him to bed. Iruka had two very nice pillows behind him, he’d had his feet rubbed, his ass checked twice, and a light but warm blanket tucked carefully over him.

“You sure? I have a really good white tea from Kumo.”

Iruka turned his head to look at Kakashi. He was sort of sitting, sort of leaning on the bed behind Iruka.

“What is wrong with you?”

Kakashi blinked innocently. If he was acting, he was good at it. “It's very good tea.”

“You beat the hell out of me, practically ra--”

Kakashi pressed a finger to Iruka’s lips. “You said ‘please.’ I was only rewarding you. Accepting punishment is worthy of reward, Iruka-sensei. It isn’t entirely about the punishment.”

Iruka just stared. He couldn’t be expected to think about this properly now could he? He looked away from Kakashi’s polite smile.

“We’ll discuss it after you’ve had time to process. I think that was a very good punishment. In fact, I don’t think I’ll ever need to administer such again.”

When Iruka’s gaze jerked back up to Kakashi’s, his smile changed entirely.

“However,” he said, “upon reflection, it might take more than one, singular punishment. You have some deeply ingrained behaviours, Iruka-sensei. I am completely open to helping you learn to control your emotions.”

Iruka swallowed again and looked away.

His ass would be on fire for days. He dreaded tomorrow. The mere thought of sitting on that hard wooden chair in front of the children was inconceivable. The eagle-eyed little snots noticed everything. Last year he'd twisted his ankle. Upon entering the room, Shou-chan asked why he was standing funny.

He couldn't bear to be asked why he was sitting funny.

Kakashi rolled so that he was on his belly next to Iruka, his hip and legs right against Iruka's. Kakashi's hair was limp, flat against his head. Like it was as smugly satisfied as its owner.

“Your chakra seems a bit ruffled.”

"I'm fine," Iruka muttered. He wanted to snap, but he didn't have the enmity. And now, Kakashi showed such concern. Iruka had always thought Kakashi attractive. Not just his looks, but everything about him. He was sleekly built, lithe, and had a commanding presence. Kakashi's bored exterior hid a dangerous man.

He looked beside him. Kakashi's head was on the corner of the pillow under Iruka. His eyes were closed and his hand curled over Iruka's thigh.

Now that Iruka knew that body more intimately, the mild attraction burned into something more. Yielding to Kakashi seemed counter-intuitive, but he'd been on his own for so long, so tightly wound for so long, that letting go, being allowed to let go, for even for that single moment, had given him an unexpected peace. An unexpected freedom.

Something he'd never have found on his own. That he hadn't even realised he'd been looking for.

And he wanted more.

 

/fin


End file.
